


To Soar

by orphan_account



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-02-11
Packaged: 2019-03-16 20:51:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13644207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Jack follows Phryne to Darwin. A reunion fic for the February quote challenge.





	To Soar

**Author's Note:**

> FireSign's February quote fic inspired me to take another look at the Anais Nin quote prompt, particularly this bit: _“I, with a deeper instinct, choose a man ... who does not doubt my courage or my toughness.”_

The little plane soared out of sight. 

Jack shaded his eyes with hand and gazed a moment too long into the brilliant blue sky. 

Part of him was melancholy, or, at least, aware that he would be melancholy in the hours and days to come, once it became impossible to deny that Phryne was truly gone for months and not simply taking her father out for a joy ride over the Victorian countryside. 

And yet another part of him cheered the simple miracle of flight. He had been a young boy when word reached Australia of the first sustained flight in a heavier-than-air machine. American brothers – bicycle mechanics, of all things – who had done the impossible and conquered gravity. In this moment, watching Phryne master what the Wright Brothers had once dreamed into being, Jack’s heart soared along with her. 

The rumble of an approaching car pulled Jack from his reverie. 

A woman hopped out – tall, broad-shouldered, wearing dark trousers a plain cotton blouse. 

“Opal Steves,” she said, offering her hand to Jack for a firm shake. “Have I missed her?” 

“Phryne? Ehm, Miss Fisher?” Jack responded. “Yes, she took off about twenty minutes ago.” 

“And you must be the detective inspector,” Opal mused. “Mac said I might run into to you. I suppose I’ll have to catch up with her in Darwin. I found the aileron replacement she was looking for.” 

“Aileron?” Jack repeated. 

“Yep. Hers shouldn’t cause any trouble over land, but I’d prefer she have this new model installed before making the hop over the Java Sea.” 

“Of course,” Jack nodded, not knowing a thing about ailerons himself but impressed by this woman’s confident ease. Of course she’d be in Phryne’s orbit. 

“I’ll wire ahead ,” Opal continued. “If she’ll hold in Darwin an extra night, I shouldn’t be more than twenty-four hours behind her, even with the run to Geelong for the part. Good day, Inspector.” 

Opal turned back to her car as Jack put the pieces together. Before Opal turned the engine, his decision was made. “Are you flying the replacement to Darwin, Miss Steves?” he asked. 

“Yes sir,” she answered with a laugh. “Only way to get there in time.” 

“Might you and the ailerons have room for another passenger?” 

Opal broke into a wide grin. “Meet me here at 5 tomorrow morning. We fly at daybreak.” 

* * *

“I hate waiting,” Henry announced from his perch in the sitting room of a hotel suite in Darwin, his tone somehow suggesting that no one else in the grand history of the British Empire had ever hated waiting nearly as much as he did. “Twenty-four hours here is enough for me to re-evaluate the relative merits of Lilydale.” 

“We have to wait for the part, Father,” Phryne answered, her tone doing little to hide her frustration at having to manage a grown man as a petulant child. 

“If that’s the case, we should have waited in Melbourne,” he whined. 

“When we left Melbourne, I wasn’t certain the new ailerons could be acquired at all, but now that it’s on its way…” 

Henry walked away, leaving Phryne’s explanation hanging mid-air. He knew the details already, and if sympathy for his predicament wasn’t on offer, he wasn’t going to listen to another litany of stubborn facts. 

“Now he’s the bartender’s problem,” Phryne shrugged, grabbing her coat and white canvas hat. “I’ll be at the airstrip when Opal arrives.” 

* * *

An hour later, Phryne was mid-conversation with a more entertaining group of men at the Darwin airstrip. 

Buster Smith, the lead mechanic, held court inside the hangar, telling gruesome tales of British adventures stranded in the outback. Phryne assumed he was exaggerating some of the details for her benefit – grasping for a gory detail that might shock the lady’s delicate sensibilities. Phryne, for her part, matched him story for story with morsels plucked from her own storehouse of Melbourne’s murder and mayhem. When Buster’s tales subsided, a man named Pops, who claimed he only needed the one name, supplied her with knowledge of a more practical design – up to date charts of shipping lanes through the Dutch Indies and tales of pirates and smugglers who worked the more isolated islands of the archipelago. 

Phryne was so immersed in conversation that Opal managed to land, disembark, and reach the threshold of the hangar without her notice, rapping loudly on the shed’s corrugated tin wall to get the group’s attention. 

“I’ve brought you a present,” Opal announced once the room finally quieted. 

“The ailerons,” Phryne enthused. “I’ve been waiting.” 

“And something else,” Opal added. 

“Miss Fisher,” a familiar voice rumbled, as Jack stepped from the shadows into Phryne’s line of sight, the most minute curve of his lips signaling his joy in her delighted surprise. 

“Jack,” Phryne breathed. She beamed at him, but stood in place. It was instinct on both their parts, borne of so many months of coiled anticipation, to lock eyes but hold their ground, particularly in the presence of others. 

Opal quickly determined the need to break the logjam. 

“Phryne,” she stated. “Would you come with me to the plane?” 

“Of course,” she answered, watching as Jack turned and silently exited the hangar. “You’ll excuse me for a moment, gentlemen,” she continued with a gracious nod to the mechanics. 

As Phryne stepped into the wide expanse of the airfield, Jack stepped into place next to her and gently took her hand, interlacing their fingers as the they strode together towards the plane. 

“You’ve come after me,” she teased. 

“Well, someone had to hold the aileron,” he answered, the nonchalance in his voice contradicted by the intensity of his gaze. “Mac was otherwise occupied.” 

Phryne stopped, tugged on their joined hands, and pulled him close for a searing kiss. “You’ve come after me,” she repeated. 

“Yes,” he said simply. “I have.” 

“I’ve been waiting so long, Jack,” she replied, her voice warm and sure. “Let’s get you back to the hotel.” 

* * *

  
  
They soared.  
  


* * *

Hours later, they held one another silently, the illusion of infinite night threatened by the first approach of daybreak. 

“Jack,” she started, “You do know that I still have to fly Father to London?” 

“I do,” he said, his strong arms encircling her. 

“And you’ll return to Melbourne?” she asked, placing a small kiss to his jawline. 

“I will,” he answered. “As soon as Opal is ready to fly.” 

“It will take months, Jack. I don’t want the waiting to make you regret tonight.” 

“I’m not here to hold you back, Phryne. That’s not who we are. I want you to soar.” 

* * *

Daylight. 

Late morning at the airfield brought searing heat and soaking humidity. 

Phryne shielded her eyes against the sun as she watched Jack board the passenger seat of Opal’s plane for the return trip to Melbourne. She watched as he donned goggles and a flight jacket. Watched longer as Opal performed the final safety checks and mounted the pilot seat with a cheery wave. 

The plane rumbled down the airstrip, gaining speed, then climbing into the blue sky, defeating gravity once again. Another moment, and Jack disappeared from sight, magical, miraculous. 

Phryne’s heart soared with them. 


End file.
